THE BIRTH OF A MOTHER

It was fear that appeared in the window of my pregnancy test. Those two little lines represented the parallel that my life was running at that moment. In an instant I saw all of my hopes and dreams dashed and a new path carved out before me. I sat in the public toilets in Byron Bay and choked down the tears and looming responsibility that those two lines threatened me with and then I pulled up my big girl panties and I ran as fast as I could. I ran all the way to a grassy little hill and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. I closed my wet eyes, took a deep breath and placed my hands to my belly. Hello you......and then I was really in trouble. Fear was replaced by an ancient love. I already knew this little speck of shared reproductive juices. Her imprint had been lying within me since my beginning. It was if she had been echoing in my bones this whole time and like a powerful mantra,, had manifested itself into life. This manifestation came from the vibration of years of daydreaming, reckless love making and perhaps a little destiny. She was now submerged in her own watery universe, dividing, multiplying and changing. We were both changing. She into her physical form and I into a mother. My old self was slowly dying and I could hear the chain rattle in my inhales and exhales as I somewhat clung to my former life. But, I was excited about the birth of a new me.

Over the next few months my belly swelled, as did my day dreaming with my daughter. I would smooth my hand over my full moon round stomach and imagine I was caressing her sweet little head. I ached to just kiss those tiny toes that wriggled under my rib cage and prodded me awake in the depth of the night reminding me of her presence. Pregnancy is like one big acid trip. You float between moments of absolute euphoria, seeing colors, nature and people with new eyes and cosmic connection, then without warning you can be thrust into facing some deep dark skeletons which you have to deal with in order to melt back into a sublime state. There is nothing like pregnancy to hash up all those suppressed emotions and memories and to be made to shed them like an old skin before birthing a new one. And if you don't deal with your stuff during the generous nine months you are given then be sure it'll well up in birth and beyond.

During my labor with my daughter I had all sorts of denied emotions come up. It was like the more my hips and cervix expanded the more my embedded emotional dust got disturbed. Perhaps that why I opted out of my home birth and opted in for a spinal block. Numb the pain, oh god numb the pain. Numb the feelings, just numb everything. Yes said the doctors and yes says society. Suppress, deny, do not grieve, do not see the death of self as a rite of passage into birthing a strong grounded mother. I flipped the bird at vein chilling sedatives and detachment with the birth of my son. I stood bearing into the floor with bare feet and calling upon the millions of woman who had birthed before me, my birthing ancestors, to send their love and strength my way. Every contraction was met with a deep spiraling inside of myself. I can still see the place in my mind I went too. It was far far away, a small place that was filled with light and a glowing orange within its center. It was only in this place that I could handle the intense energy of my labor. Although I had wanted my husband to be my main form of support it was my mother holding me that felt most right. Draping into her arms and giving over the energy of my contractions to a seasoned birther and the woman who gave me the gift of life was one of the most poignant moments in my existence. It was like the contractions surged up through me from the earth, into her and then back into the earth. She was my copper wire, conducting all that power. Perhaps in that moment she became a new mother too.

I always liked the Christian notion of being reborn. But, I feel this does not happen once. We are constantly reborn on a daily, weekly and seasonal basis. Sowing our seeds of intention, shedding, hibernating and springing forth into a new life. I am not the mother I was four years ago or even a week ago. Its futile to think that this life is stable, we are constantly changing and evolving. Its merely the question of how do we flow down lifes river?

My birthing and motherhood experiences are shaping me in a way that I could not have fathomed. It is not what I thought and I have grieved those lost expectations. I am also not the mother I thought I would be. I'm weak in the areas I thought I was strong and strong in the areas I thought I was weak. I love it because I get to be creative and to be in touch with my inner child again. Birthing into motherhood has been a swirling pot of love, connection, dirty laundry, sleepless nights, loneliness, playing in imaginary castles, a lot of time outdoors, a lot of time indoors, a flow, a change, a constant rhythmic change consisting of high notes and low somber tones. In becoming a parent I have learned there is a constant teacher-student exchange. While we are mentoring our children through life we are also being taught by our greatest teachers. We grow and learn beside them. Welcome our babies to the world but do not forget to honor the birth of the mother.

Astrid xx

CREATING RITUAL

We only have to look to nature and the world we live in with its seasons and rhythmic changing to know how important and magic ritual is. We are evolving rapidly as a race and with that, a lot of ritual has been lost. We no longer rise with the sun and rest when her shimmering majesty the moon appears. We force crops to grow out of their natural season and environment. We alter our body clocks to fit in with our hectic lives instead of working with nature and our inner compass to guide us through the day. There is hope though and it comes with creating evening and morning rituals. 

There are countless ways to do this. Here is what I do to create a piece of harmony in my day.

We must begin in the evening.

Once little babies are tucked away in bed I head to the bathroom. A candle is lit in order to begin the wind down of my sensors and to let my body know that sleep is approaching. This dimming of light actually helps the release of mealatonin which is the hormone necessary for sleep. I massage some oil into my body and practice some pranayama while doing so. Usually just big deep breaths in and out. Into a hot steamy bath I go. Sometimes i'll drop a little lavender essential oil onto the bottom of the tub which releases a heavenly scent when mixed with the hot water and steam. I use a gentle soap to cleanse the oil and the day away. Generous amounts of moisturizer is applied after my bath session. Dozy and in a state of relaxation I curl up in bed with a hot cup of Golden milk. This deeply healing and sleep inducing drink is an Ayurvedic medicinal beverage made from turmeric paste which is known for its anti inflammatory and immunity boosting properties (recipe for golden milk below). Phones, computers and any other technological device is removed from the bedroom as they cause the nervous system to become over stimulated. I now put my nose into a good book or if anxieties are looming I journal my thoughts and release them onto paper. Little snuffles from my son often means hes ready for a nighttime feed so I turn out the lamp and nestle into him while he suckles away. I try to say a little prayer before drifting off to dreamland and thank my lucky stars for everything and everyone in my life.

And now the morning.

I am usually awoken early by my children but if you don't have little people prying your eyes open at sunrise then try to set your alarm for around 6am. Your alarm should be peaceful and rhythmic. Nothing too startling. Heavy with sleep I lie in bed for a moment and breathe in the new day. I try to flood my mind with positive thoughts so I start on a high vibration. A candle is lit and an intention is set for the day. Slipping into some comfy clothes and shoes I'm out the door for a big walk and yoga. I do a special breathing exercise while walking to get my nervous system up and going and I also repeat some positive affirmations. My incantation at the moment is "Everyday I know my worth more and more". 

Once I reach my local park I roll at my mat and settle in to a 30-40 minute practice. On days I am particularly tired or feeling worn out I will skip the yoga and just sit somewhere where the morning sun can warm my face and do a peaceful meditation. Before I walk in the door of my home I try to center myself and leave all my negative thoughts at the door and ask God that I be a blessing to my family today. This is a beautiful ritual my husband taught me. 

I fill my now hungry tum with a hearty helping of warm porridge. Always topped with seasonal fruits, kefir yogurt and honey. A big cup of chai tea ensues. And now I am ready for the day. Ready for the carrying of babies, the cooking, the sweeping, the peek-a-boos, the going this way and then that way and then the twirling around. The ebb and flow of life.

Golden Milk: Recipe and Photo from Healthy Holistic Living 

Step 1:

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup Turmeric powder
• 1/2 Teaspoon Ground Pepper
• 1/2 cup filtered water

Mix all ingredients in a small a small sauce pan and mix well. Turn the heat to medium high and stir constantly until the mixture is a thick paste. This does not take long so don’t walk away from the pan.

Let this mixture cool then keep it in a jar in the fridge.

Step 2:

Ingredients:

• 1 cup milk. I use raw milk but you can use almond, coconut or any other milk you prefer.
• 1 teaspoon of coconut oil
• 1/4 teaspoon or more of your Turmeric paste
• Honey to taste

Directions:

Combine all of the ingredients except for honey in a small saucepan. Turn the heat to medium. While heating make sure you constantly stir and do not bring to the boil. Add honey to taste. You can also mix with your favorite chai tea or even a smoothie!

Here is a good video on how to make it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYCQb2YNGt4 

Astrid xx

REVENGE ON THE BOA

“Look at me. Look at my saggy tits full of stretch marks and scars. Ohhhh yea! Do you see them? LOOK!”  These were some of the first words I uttered in my introduction to Burlesque and Body Self-Confidence class. Staring into the eyes of a complete stranger I had to work my way up my body telling them to stare at all the parts I loved and all the parts I hated. My bony feet that have taken me everywhere I need to go in life, my mother’sknobby knees, my incredible thighs, my hips that had expanded to house children, my milk filled and overworked breasts, my slender neck and my face. A face I have admittedly stared into a mirror and spat how much I hated it. But here I was, commanding this stranger to look at me for all I am, flawed andimperfect and utterly ‘fabulous’.

Hold on, weren’t we supposed to be gyrating a chair in some slutty underwear whilst lip syncing some cliché Beyoncé song?Licking our lips and undoing all the hard work of our feminist sisters. Wasn’t I just here to spice up my sex life a little? As it had become about as interesting as a mommy and me group.According to our teacher, Cat, in her swirled British-American accent, “absolutely fucking not”. This workshop was not about pretending to be the epitome of what society thinks women should be, it was about creating a performance that brought out you or an aspect of you that had been locked away in societies little box of taboo.

And so the five week burlesque workshop journey began with my troupe. We were all there for different reasons but I think we all shared the same lust to embody our powerful and divinely beautiful feminine side. For me, I wanted to unlock my inner goddess who had been handcuffed by bad relationships, bosses who had berated me, women who had bullied me, people’s expectations which I’d failed to meet and a huge lack of self-worth. I also wanted to express a side of me that was lost when I became mother. My body is now shared, tugged and constantly sought after for comfort and protection. I wanted to feel like for a moment my body was my own again and I wanted to get back in touch with my sexuality.

It wasn’t easy coming up with poses and a whole routine. It turns out there is a lot more to commanding your presence on the stage than I had expected. And then I got my awkward little hands on a midnight black feather boa. It became an extension of myself and an integral part of my act as it was to be used to seek revenge on all those who had wronged me. I got to pour out all of my unforgiving thoughts and emotions into a sequence of sultry and powerful movements with that boa, that demanded therespect and presence of the space and energy in which I was creating. Sometimes it feels better than good to stop working at forgiving and to just do something that says fuck you, here I am and I’m taking my power back.

While I’m a long way off a dazzling polished performance or stripping down to nipple tassels, I catch myself now being able to look at people in the eye when they speak to me. My initial thoughts when I meet someone are no longer “they aren’t going to like me. I’m too weird, I’m too quiet, I’m too skinny and I’m not interesting enough. Save your dignity Astrid and walk away now!”. Unapologetic for who I am and what I have to offer to the world is the skin I now reside in. It has also been a gift to see the other woman in my class express and evolve a part of themselves that has been itching to get out. I went to this workshop as I was always intrigued by the Burlesque world but never did I think it would have such a profound impact on my self-confidence. So look at me. I am a fearless and beautiful goddess and I’M FABULOUS!

Astrid xx

WE TRAVEL THE LAND. WE LIVE IN THE HEART.

Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Photo Credit Thomas Northcut www.freepeople.com 

Travelling and living in a new country has shown me many things about myself and the human race in general. I've come to have a deep gratitude for New Zealand. It's lush beauty and quiet abundance astounds me the more I am away from her. I have never felt connected, though, to my home land. I was always seeking that feeling of being rooted, that magical yoking I see in people when they see themselves as part flesh and part soil of the earth they call home. This was absent from my being. I think that's why my thirst for travel and exploration has always been so strong. Ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed of far away lands, vast oceans and remnants of ancient civilizations. I would pour over the Atlas's my grandfather gifted me on birthdays. I played pretend. Adorned with the saris and bangles my grandmother gave me from her travels to India, I would become an Indian princess ruling over the kingdom with her tiger in the jungle. With a strum of my magic sitar, tiger and I were whirled to new and exotic continents That young gypsy girl is still alive and well inside of me.

My husband and I have only had each other since being in Los Angeles. No family, friends or government benefits to bail us out when times get tough. We have evolved in our personal growth and relationship rapidly. We have fallen apart and knitted ourselves back together with new threads of love we didn't know existed. Finding strength in trying times often comes from realizing truths. Like the ones that hit you in the heart in the dead of the night. The ones that drag you to the bathroom floor where you fold into yourself and flood your hands which cup your sodden face with hot tears of unwanted knowing. To no avail, I would try to swallow these truths back to the dark well in which they were fetched from. My lesson is that releasing and acknowledging your emotions is incredibly healing. Suppressing them into a festering pit of pain will only cause them to bubble out from time to time in the form of physical ailments and disease. 

Our adventure has brought down our towers of expectations and exposed fresh lands of possibilities. It has made us look at ourselves with scrutiny but to invite a kindness when we do so. We continue to learn and reevaluate what is important to us. We still swing between wanting the American Dream and living a simple life on the road. We are somewhere in between.  I still may not feel rooted to any one place but I have come to feel at home on our journey. I am planted within the hearts of my children, family and my friends who are scattered throughout the world which I intend to explore with that little Indian princess, her tiger and sitar nestled lovingly within my soul.

Astrid x